Perchance to Dream
by hallowgirlfrommars
Summary: ""Look, dude-" He sighs, tugs at the bedcovers. "Why'd you like to watch me sleep?" Castiel swallows. He wants to answer Dean's question but he's not entirely sure how to." Castiel has taken to visiting Dean's dreams. And his hotel room. While he sleeps. That's the first surprising thing. The second surprising thing is that Dean goes along with it. Set in late Season 5. Destiel.


**Another Supernatural fic, guys. Do me a favour and leave me some reviews. ;) Set sometime in late Season 5.**

Castiel hasn't had occasion to appear in many people's dreams. So, when he appears in Dean's, to convey a message or to provide information, he isn't sure if what he's experiencing is entirely usual.

He always waits for a moment before he enters Dean's dreams, to make sure Dean is truly asleep. And sometimes-just sometimes-he waits a moment before he enters. It's strangely fascinating to watch Dean sleep-Castiel has never felt the need to, and it's strange to see how often humans will comfortably sink back and close their eyes. Castiel wonders how they're so relaxed about it.

But he likes to watch Dean sleep. He likes to watch Dean's mouth move as he murmurs something in his dreams, likes to watch the movement of his eyelids as he sees something invisible to the rest of the world. Castiel knows he'll be inside Dean's head in a moment, and for a second before he delivers the message, he'll be seeing what Dean sees. Somehow, he likes the idea-the idea that only he and Dean will be seeing what's inside Dean's head, that they'll be the only two people who know about it. To be more accurate, person and angel.

But Castiel sometimes catches himself stretching out the seconds he watches Dean when he's asleep. He likes to watch the way Dean's eyelashes brush his cheeks, the way his hands grasp the pillows, his fingers digging into the material as if they could grind their way into the mattress. He likes to watch the way Dean's lips sometimes pucker, sometimes creasing into a pout. It's all so very human.

Castiel thinks that's what it must be. He's simply wondering at the differences between himself and humans. Angels never sleep, after all. And though Castiel has seen many people sleep, he's never watched one like this before. It is simple curiosity. Human curiosity, some would say, but then Castiel is not a human.

But Castiel always takes a moment before he enters Dean's dreams. And Dean's dreams always take a moment of getting used to before he can attract their creator's attention.

Sometimes, they're dark, with the ground shifting under Castiel's feet, cracks fissuring out through the stones beneath him, burning streaks dotting the skies. They're always introductions, the preliminary images of nightmares, nightmares that leave Castiel with his eyes closed, hand clenched, even though he knows they're not real, knows they're thoughts, memories. Sometimes, when he's watching Dean sleep, he takes in each twitch of an eyebrow and wonders if it's a memory, a scream, a whisper of the past.

But more often, they're just images, sometimes brief ones-bars, the Impala, girls. There are lots of girls and for some reason, they make Castiel grind his teeth together when he catches sight of yet another one, for a reason he doesn't quite understand and prefers not to think about.

But anyway, Castiel only has to see them for a few moments before he steps forward and wakes Dean up. There's always a second before Dean registers he's there, when his eyes shift, confused and Castiel waits and for a moment, it's difficult to breathe, almost as though Dean might forget him.

But then Dean's gaze clears and no matter what expression he's wearing when he looks at Castiel, it's always strangely soothing. Dean's never too surprised to see him, and somehow that makes Castiel relax a little, as if something's slid into place.

When Dean wakes up and Castiel's delivered whatever message he needs to give, he leaves. Dean seems to expect it and until recently, Castiel has never seen a reason to stay longer. But sometimes, now, he feels a twinge when he has to leave, a longing to stay, to watch, to-

Castiel doesn't know and it's something he's never experienced before.

And then one night, he appears in the motel room. He's not sure why. He has no message to convey. Nothing of importance to tell Dean. He simply has nowhere to go and so he appears.

Dean and Sam are both stretched out on the beds, asleep, and for a moment, Castiel doesn't know what to do. He can't wake them up. He has nothing to tell them. But he doesn't want to leave, not yet.

He sits down by the window, his eyes falling on Dean. The hunter's face is pressed into the pillow, his eyes closed but flickering slightly, as if lost in dreams. Castiel struggles to determine whether or not Dean's dreams are good or bad, but it's difficult to judge by eyelids.

But somehow, he likes to watch.

Castiel doesn't need sleep, but somehow his thoughts feel lighter, more fluid, watching Dean sleep. It helps, somehow. He's never been able to watch him like this before, and-

Dean's eyes open slowly.

It takes the hunter a moment and then his eyes settle on the angel sitting by the window. "Cas?"

He sits up, automatically yanking at the covers, though it's not as if Cas could have _seen_ anything. "Cas?"

Castiel blinks. To see Dean go from a state of complete rest, to sitting up in bed, staring at him-it's rather unnerving. Still, he decides not to say this.

"Hello, Dean" he says instead, wondering if Dean will ask why Castiel was watching him and what Cas will say if asked.

But Dean just blinks a few times and says "So, what's up?"

Castiel blinks himself. "What do you mean?"

Dean gestures with his head. "You're here. You've not got some kind of angel message for me?"

Castiel shakes his head.

Dean blinks. If Cas hasn't got some divine message from one of his freaking holy brothers, why _is_ he here?

He waits for Cas to elaborate but the angel just sits there and after a moment, Dean says "Cas?"

The angel's eyes narrow. "Yes, Dean?"

Dean waits. Then, when it becomes clear Castiel isn't going to reply, he lifts a hand. "So...why are you here?"

Castiel stares for a few moments and for a minute, Dean has a weird jolt in his chest-like he's hurt the angel's feelings. But when Castiel speaks a moment later, his voice is steady, if a little lower than usual. "I-just wanted to visit."

"Visit?" Dean stares. "While we're asleep?"

Castiel blinks and then looks away. Dean squints at him through the half-darkness of the hotel room. Cas's teeth are digging into his bottom lip, his eyes darting back and forth between the wall and the bed, his hands suddenly playing awkwardly for a moment before one slides to the back of his neck, his every movement designed to avoid Dean's gaze. Dean watches, some thought tugging at the back of his brain, though he can't make out what it is.

"My apologies" Castiel says, after a moment, and his voice is uncertain, caught in his throat. "I didn't mean to-"

He trails off and Dean closes his eyes. Cas is trying to apologize to him. And Dean's not sure why he sounded so pissed off with the angel. Hell, of all the weird things there are, Cas watching him while he's asleep probably isn't the worst of them. Besides, he's an angel. He's probably never seen sleep. And Cas isn't exactly the best judge of people. Dean remembers that time in the club all too strongly, when that Chastity chick had gone storming past him and Cas had given him the explanation of just how he'd screwed up. _All I did_ he'd said, looking genuinely bewildered. To Cas, watching someone sleep was probably freaking normal.

He pushes his hands into his hair. Castiel's eyes are darting back and forth. The angel's holding himself stiffly now, his hands clenching and unclenching on the edge of the chair. "I'll just-"

"Cas." Dean holds up a hand. "Cas, wait. I'm sorry."

Castiel sits still, his eyes moving cautiously to Dean's face, as though unsure whether he's heard correctly or not. "You're sorry?"

Dean nods. "Look, I just-" He pushes his hand across his eyes again. In the bed next to him, Sam hasn't even woken up. What time is it? Dean takes a glance at the clock. Twenty to three in the morning. Freaking fantastic.

But he looks at Castiel. "Look, I just freaked when I woke up and you were there, OK? I'm not mad."

Castiel's eyes narrow and that familiar look of polite confusion drifts over his face. "You're not mad."

Dean shakes his head. "Look, just-" He looks at Castiel on the other side of the room. "Come over here, OK? You look freezing."

"I have no need of heat, Dean."

Dean rolls his eyes. "Look, just come over here, OK?" He can't explain why he wants Cas to come over so bad, but something about having this conversation across a room feels messed up. He wants to be able to see Cas properly when he asks him just why the hell he wants to visit when they're asleep.

Cas stands up and takes slow steps across the room towards Dean, his eyes narrowed, lips still pursed. Dean catches his eyes lingering on those pursed lips longer than necessary, and drags his gaze away, trying to ignore Cas's mouth, even though it's probably totally normal to look at another dude's lips that long.

Cas stops next to the bed and Dean realises he has no clue where to sit, because there's no chair. "Look, just-" He points to the end of the bed. "Sit down."

Castiel pauses for a moment, his eyes on Dean's face and Dean lets his eyes stray to the mattress. "No, seriously. Sit down."

Never taking his eyes off Dean, Castiel slowly sinks onto the mattress. Dean swallows, uncomfortably aware of just how close Castiel is. He's got a feeling that the whole personal space thing wouldn't go over too well given he just invited Cas to sit on a freaking bed with him, though.

Cas isn't looking at him now. His eyes are on the floor and he's got his hands at his sides, lost in thought. Dean watches him. Cas looks younger when he's uncertain and Dean swallows, wanting to reach over to him, grab his shoulder or something. Nah, Cas would probably get freaked out.

"Cas-" He tugs at the duvet. "What's up with watching me sleep?"

Castiel makes a small noise of surprise in his throat and turns to look at Dean. His eyes settle for a moment on Dean's mouth before moving up to meet his gaze.

"I thought you said you weren't mad?" he asks, after a moment.

"I'm not." Dean avoids Cas's eyes, looks at the floor. "Just wondered, that's all. Dudes don't often watch other dudes sleep."

"I-" Castiel looks away. "I didn't know."

Dean swallows. Cas didn't know. Of course Cas didn't know. Cas barely knows how to use freaking voicemail.

Castiel watches the floor. He's not sure whether or not Dean wants him to stay or whether he's lying for Cas's benefit. He wonders if he should offer to leave. But then Dean has asked him to stay. Castiel's brow furrows. And Dean had asked if he was cold, when he should have known Castiel couldn't feel cold. It was confusing but Castiel has grown more used to being confused. That doesn't make the feeling any more welcome.

Maybe Dean doesn't want him here and is afraid to tell him.

But Dean's speaking again and Castiel forces himself to listen. "Look, dude-" He sighs, tugs at the bedcovers. "Why'd you like watching me sleep?"

Castiel swallows. He wishes he could answer Dean's question but he's not entirely sure how to.

"I-" He opens his mouth but he isn't sure what words to use after the first one.

Dean's eyes are shadowed in the darkness but they seem softer for a moment. "I'm not mad. I just want to know."

Castiel swallows again, and he feels himself shifting awkwardly back and forth on the bed. It feels strange, like he doesn't quite fit in his skin. Well, not _his _skin, but close enough.

"I-" It takes a moment of wetting his lips for him to be able to speak clearly. "I just-" He rubs at his neck again and feels his eyes flicker quickly to Dean's face and then away again.

He keeps looking away. Somehow, this way, it's easier to speak and Castiel wonders if this is a particularly human trait.

"I find it-comforting-to watch you." As he says the words, he knows they're true. When he'd watched Dean sleep minutes before, he'd felt peaceful, his thoughts drifting. Almost safe, though Castiel sometimes can't remember quite what it was like to be safe. Or if he ever knew.

"To watch me?" Dean's frowning, and Castiel wonders how best to explain.

"You looked more peaceful" he says, but the words sound wrong and he wonders if he shouldn't have left after all.

Dean's still frowning and Castiel looks at him quickly. "I didn't-" He looks away. He doesn't know what to do now. "I didn't mean this to happen" he says, and his voice sounds strange to his own ears.

"Didn't mean what?" Dean's voice is quieter now, lower in the back of his throat and Castiel doesn't know how to answer.

"I didn't mean-" He starts to stand. "My apologies. I shouldn't have disturbed you." He should leave. He didn't mean to bother Dean. He shouldn't have tried it.

"No, Cas-" Dean's voice echoes in Castiel's ears, and he stops for a moment. It takes a second but then he turns and looks.

"Goodnight, Dean" he says after a moment, and then he goes.

Dean falls back against his pillows, lets his eyes fall shut. "Son of a bitch."

* * *

Two days later, they've got some stubborn angel problem that won't go away and Sam suggests calling up Cas, and Dean can't say no without getting a barrage of questions about why he's against it and so after Sam tries over and over and gets no answer, it's Dean's go.

He steps out and looks up at the sky and says "Cas?"

No one appears. Dean sighs.

"Cas, we got a problem. We need you to help. Or we're screwed."

Nothing. Dean wants to kick something.

"Cas, just get down here. Please?" He wonders if the angel's sulking. But then again, Castiel wouldn't stay away when this kind of thing's at stake. This could be life or death. Cas wouldn't stay away from that over some stupid-midnight...thing-they had one night.

Jeez, that sounds dirty.

Dean shakes his head at his own mind and then turns back to the sky. "Cas?" He stares around for any sign of an angel appearing. "Cas?" he yells, as if volume has anything to do with whether Castiel can hear him or not.

Dean rubs his jaw, then sighs and lowers his voice. "Cas" he mutters, keeping his voice low enough that Sam can't hear. "I know you're mad at me. I know you're staying away. But we need you, Cas. There's something here-and we're not enough to beat it. We need you, Cas. People need you." Dean waits but there's only the sound of his own breath against his hands, the faint calling of birds in the distance.

He sighs, lets out a hoarse breath. "I need you."

There's a small sound behind him. Dean holds still for a moment, then turns.

Castiel is standing right there. He looks exactly the same as he did the last time Dean saw him. Dean's got no idea why he'd expect Cas to look any different but somehow, he expected that their conversation would read on Cas's face, maybe.

"Hello, Dean." Cas's voice is uncertain as his eyes search Dean's face. His hands hang limply at his sides.

Dean takes a step towards Castiel. "Hello?" His voice is louder than he expected. "We prayed to you for ages. Ages. People are dying and I swear, if any of your winged-dick brothers are behind it, I'll kill something, and you turn up after nearly two solid hours of trying with _hello?" _He takes another step forward. "After you just vanish for two days?" His hands clench at his sides and it's only then that he realises that Castiel hasn't stepped back from him. "I didn't know what the hell had happened to you. You just went and-" His voice trails off as he realises this is the closest he's got to discussing that night with Castiel with anyone.

Castiel is watching him, and the only change in his expression is a slight tightening of his lips, a hardening of the eyes perhaps. "I thought some space between us would help" he says, after a moment and Dean wonders if he genuinely means it or if he's learnt the line somewhere, the way he learnt to use a cell phone and not to walk in front of cars.

"Yeah? Well, you were freaking wrong." Dean lifts his hands. "What's the problem? I told you, I was cool with what happened. It was fine. I'm not mad at you." He takes in Castiel's rather disbelieving expression and then says "OK, I am now, but not about that. What's the problem?"

Sam's coming out of the building behind them, and Dean knows that they've only got seconds until their conversation becomes less private, but he keeps his gaze focused on Castiel anyway.

And Castiel looks back for a second, and then turns away. And then says with a certain edge to his voice, "You are not the only one with feelings, Dean."

Dean blinks but then Sam's there and there's a problem to discuss but the words stick in the back of his mind. And all he can do is stare at Cas and wonder just what the goddamn hell he's meant to get from that.

* * *

Cas isn't alone with him the whole day, not during the hunt, not on the car ride, not even during the battle, though Dean would have to admit that having a full-on conversation with Cas while they fight some demon intent on waging war with the angels, might be more difficult than he thought. He's sure Cas would have vanished right afterwards if he'd had the chance, but then Sam's demon blood thing kicks in and the next thing Dean knows, he's holding his brother back with Cas.

Sam doesn't end up with blood in his system but he does end up with a cut head and a concussion and it's one serious enough to both knock him out and require stitches. So the next thing Dean knows, he's got Sam's arm over one shoulder and Cas is dragging the other side and they're loading him into the car and Cas is standing over him, reaching out before Dean can even realise what he's doing.

Cas's fingers press against Sam's forehead and the next thing Dean knows, the blood is fading from Sam's skin and the already swollen bruising is vanishing.

"He should wake soon" says Cas, his eyes still on Sam.

Dean feels his shoulders slump with relief. He'd known Sammy wasn't about to slide over the edge, but he'd rather have him awake than spark-out. "Thanks, Cas" he says, without thinking.

There's a slight pause and then Dean turns to see Cas's eyes on him as the angel says slowly "You're welcome."

They watch each other and Dean says "Look, Cas-"

Castiel keeps watching him and Dean's suddenly aware that it's difficult to have this conversation with someone who could just blip out at any minute. "Cas-" He looks at the angel. "Look, I don't get what happened earlier, but look, if I-" He waves a hand. "Pissed you off somehow, I'm sorry."

Castiel's eyes narrow and Dean recognizes the expression-Cas trying to understand a phrase. "I don't think you-" His lips form the words slowly. "Pissed me off. Intentionally."

Dean shakes his head. "No. I didn't."

Castiel looks for a moment like he is about to say something else, then lowers his head. "My apologies."

"What?" Dean's sure he's not hearing right now.

Castiel shakes his head. "It doesn't matter. What happened earlier. It is not of import."

Normally, Dean would be happy to leave it like that, drive off and get a beer after the day they've had but somehow, looking at Cas, his eyes on the ground, he doesn't want to do that. He doesn't want to leave it like this.

"No" he says. "No, you were pissed off and it is of-" He narrows his own eyes. "Import" he says slowly, and then shrugs it off, deciding there's better stuff to be worried about than Cas's choice of vocabulary. "Look, I overreacted, OK? It's not-weird, what you were doing or anything."

Castiel doesn't say anything, just keeps watching him with those narrowed eyes.

Dean sighs. "Look-" He lowers his voice, though he's fairly sure Sam's still dead to the world. "I'm not freaked out, OK? I shouldn't have said it. I wasn't freaked out. I was just-surprised."

Castiel nods slowly, his head tilted slightly to the side. "I surprised you."

"Yeah." Dean exhales slowly, glad that something seems to be clear to Cas. "I just-you know, didn't expect it. Right?"

Cas nods again. "Right" he says, though it sounds more like a question than an answer.

"So-" Dean doesn't know quite what to say now. "So, you don't need to blink out on me, OK?"

Cas frowns. "Blink out on you?" It takes a moment before his expression clears. "You mean, travel."

"Yeah." Dean shoves his hands in his pockets. "Not when I'm speaking to you, OK? That does freak me out. I can be in the middle of saying something and I don't know if you're still going to be there."

He looks up, half-expecting Castiel to have vanished exactly when he was talking about vanishing, but the angel's still standing there, looking mildly perplexed now.

"You don't wish me to vanish when we're speaking?"

Dean shakes his head. "No. I just-I don't know-I want to know you're where I left you, you know? When we're talking like this."

He gestures between them and wonders just what the _this _he means is. Castiel doesn't seem to know either, though judging by his slow nod he agrees.

"Good." Dean turns away, his eyes falling on Sam again. "You sure he'll be all right?"

He doesn't need to ask. He trusts Cas.

Cas nods. "He will be fine. He will wake within the next few minutes."

Dean nods in reply. "Good."

He looks away and an awkward silence descends. There's a moment where Dean scuffs his feet on the ground and Cas stares fixedly at Sam's head.

"Look, Cas-" Dean says, his voice far lower than usual, after a second.

Cas doesn't look away from Sam but there's a sudden tension in his shoulders, as if he's listening harder.

Dean swallows. "Look-I've been thinking-and if you want to-"

There's a moment of silence that hangs in the air, bright and shining between them.

Dean inhales. "Visit-from time to time-you know, just when you want-" He doesn't look at Cas as he speaks. "While I'm asleep-that would be OK."

Castiel doesn't speak for a moment. When he does, his own voice is quieter. "You mean that?"

Dean looks at him now and waits for the angel to meet his gaze. When he does, he nods. "Yeah, I mean it."

Castiel keeps his eyes on Dean. "But what about-" He indicates Sam with his head.

Dean tries for a grin. "What Sammy doesn't know won't hurt him."

Castiel's brow furrows and Dean feels his own grin falter. "Or you could just stay near me" he suggests quickly. "I mean, on my side of the room. When you visit. If you want to." This is all going wrong.

Castiel watches him for a long moment and Dean struggles to read his expression. But apart from a curious brightness in his eyes, the angel's face is inscrutable.

There's a moment of silence and Dean's starting to think this was a bad idea when Cas speaks. "That would be-" He hesitates for a moment, apparently trying to think of the right word. "Enjoyable" he says, after a second. He then lowers his voice further, and this time, his eyes lock with Dean's. "Thank you, Dean" he says and there's something different in his tone this time, something fiercer and softer all at once.

Dean tries for another grin. "Any time."

There's a moment when they watch each other and Dean finds himself noticing the blue of Castiel's eyes. The gaze that isn't looking away, those lips that his eyes keep dropping to for some damn reason. And then he doesn't have a moment to think about that because Sam moans and Dean has to look away.

His younger brother's eyes open and he squints confusedly in the sunlight. "Hey" he says, eyes flickering to Dean's. "Miss anything?"

Dean leans into him, brushes his hair back to check his head. He's focused on the words he's saying to Sam, the reassurances he's feeding him but the whole time he's looking at his brother, he can feel Cas's eyes, the weight of Cas's gaze.

More specifically, he can feel the weight of Cas's gaze on _him_ and there's a strange prickling feeling to his skin as he realises he doesn't mind.

* * *

It's a few nights before Castiel takes Dean up on his offer for the first time.

He's not sure if the offer extends to dreams or not, so he decides to play it safe. He ends up sitting there again, by the window, watching Dean sleep. At first, he glances worriedly at Sam on the other side of the room, but Sam never wakes and gradually Castiel's gaze settles more and more frequently on Dean's face. After a few moments, he realises he's staring and then remembers that Dean gave his permission.

He starts to notice things about Dean-the way his head's pushed into the pillow, as if trying to escape something, the way his eyelids flicker as he dreams. He whispers something in his sleep, and Castiel feels himself flinch as if the words burnt him.

He wonders if he should touch Dean's shoulder to wake him but decides against it. He doesn't know if the invitation extends to that.

Then, as if his thoughts have somehow travelled across the room, Dean's eyes open. This time, when they find Castiel watching him, he doesn't sit bolt upright. Instead, Dean just grins, albeit sleepily. "Hey, Cas."

Castiel swallows. "Hello, Dean."

Dean watches him for a second, eyes still half-closed. "How long've you been here?"

Castiel tries to calculate. "About twenty two minutes."

Dean smirks and Castiel frowns at him. "Did I wake you up?"

Dean shakes his head. "No. Just-" He points to the end of the bed. "Come over here."

This is the second time Dean has invited Castiel to sit on his bed and Castiel only waits for a moment before he obeys, moving to sit next to Dean's feet. Once there, he fidgets, wondering what he should do.

"So-" Dean leans back against his pillows, watching Cas shuffle his legs back and forth. "What did I do?"

The angel looks up, confused. "Do...what?"

"When I was asleep. What did I do?" Dean watches Cas, who looks thoroughly confused.

Cas frowns. "Well..mostly you just lay there quietly."

Dean fights the urge to snigger. "Anything else?"

Castiel looks even more confused. "You talked in your sleep."

At this, a shadow crosses over Dean's eyes. "I talked, huh?"

"A little. I couldn't hear what you said."

Dean nods once and sits up. "Angels never sleep?"

"I have never had the need to." Castiel doesn't tell Dean that somehow, until recently, he has always found the idea of sleep rather boring, as he has the task of watching over humans while they sleep. That was until he started watching Dean.

Dean frowns. "You mean, you're stuck with your eyes open twenty four seven?"

Castiel frowns and puzzles over the words for a moment. "Something like that, yes" he says, eventually, though he's not sure how accurate that is. He does blink, occasionally.

"Wow." Dean's hand trails through his hair for a moment, his eyes on Castiel. "Sounds like it would drive me nuts."

Castiel shrugs. "It's tolerable, when you're used to it."

Dean nods and watches Cas for another moment. "Cas."

"Yes?"

"You said-" Dean avoids his gaze and drags his hand back and forth across the bedcovers. Cas watches. Each catch of the material under Dean's nails reaches his ears, a tug of sensation.

Dean's eyes flick back to Castiel's and Cas swallows. Dean's eyes look darker from here, but brighter somehow, and they're staring into his.

"You see into my dreams?" It's a question but Cas thinks that Dean already knows the answer.

He nods slowly. Dean nods too, before slowly exhaling. "What do you see?"

Castiel blinks. "What do you mean?"

Dean shrugs. "I mean, what do you see?"

Castiel looks away, wondering how best to answer. Somehow, he doesn't think lying would be the best solution, and he wonders if Dean actually wants the truth.

"I see.." His voice trails off. "Violence. Chaos. Darkness." His gaze flickers to Dean. "In your nightmares."

Dean hasn't looked away. In fact, his gaze hasn't moved from Castiel's face. "What else?"

Castiel swallows. He hasn't seen many regular dreams in Dean's head, but he wonders if Dean wants to hear that the only nighttime visions he conjures are nightmarish.

"When they're not nightmares..." He hesitates, struggling until he recalls one night that Dean's visions were not nightmarish, not memories. "When they're not nightmares, they are-sometimes-pleasant."

He doesn't mention that sometimes he himself appears in them. Sitting beside Dean, watching him, sometimes simply talking. Dean often seems to find humour in these dreams, though Castiel has no idea what's so funny about his own conversations.

Dean nods slowly. "Pleasant, huh?"

Dean thinks some of his dreams are what Cas calls "pleasant." Some are a hell of a lot better than real life. The rest of them can go to hell.

Dean exhales slowly, and Castiel doesn't look away. Dean's eyes lift back to his and this time when their gazes meet, it feels like a shiver over Castiel's skin, as though the hair on the back of his neck could stand up. He knows it has to be an illusion. Angels do not feel cold.

Cas looks at Dean again, and this time he knows what to say. "Go back to sleep" he says quietly. "I did not mean to wake you."

Dean smiles. "You didn't." He lies back down anyway, his eyes still on Cas at the end of the bed.

Cas moves to get up but Dean's voice stops him. "You can stay there if you want."

Castiel blinks again. "Here?"

"Yeah. There." Dean rolls over. "You can watch better."

Castiel swallows and sinks slowly back onto the bed. He watches Dean close his eyes, watches the hunter's face relax, as he slowly slips into dreams.

"Thank you, Dean" he says but by that point, Dean Winchester's already asleep.

Castiel stays until the rays of sunrise are filtering across the room and Sam's beginning to stir in his own bed. Only then, does he vanish, reappearing several moments later, as if he's only just arrived in the motel room, as if he hadn't spent the whole night staring at Dean Winchester and struggling to decipher his dreams.

* * *

Cas's visits increase slowly but steadily, until they start to be three times a week, then four times, then every other night. Then, slowly, gradually, it gets to the point where each time Dean wakes up, his eyes flicker to the window, where Castiel will be sitting, and soon, it's more likely he'll be sitting there than not.

And then Dean will beckon him over to the bed and these days, Castiel moves without hesitation. It's kind of inevitable that one night Dean looks at him and says "You know, dude, you can start off over here. You don't have to sit over there."

Castiel watches him for a long moment, his eyes very blue in the darkness. Then, he says "This wouldn't bother you?"

Dean shakes his head. "No."

Castiel swallows and after a moment, he nods. That's all they say about it.

But from then on, every night, when Castiel appears, he takes his seat at the end of Dean's bed. And when Dean wakes up, he's never too surprised to see him there.

Dean's always been a light sleeper, and he gets used to waking up each night and seeing Castiel sitting at the end of his bed. The angel's eyes are always fixed on him, and after a while, he forgets the whole weirded-out-by-someone-watching-him-sleep thing, and it just becomes normal for him to meet Castiel's gaze, dark blue eyes watching him, narrowed in concentration, as though he thinks Dean might disappear if he doesn't pay close enough attention.

Sometimes, Dean just rolls over and falls asleep again. But most of the time now, their words dissolve into whispered conversation, fragments of stories passed back and forth in the night. Sam sleeps deeply and doesn't wake to hear the whispered exchange of histories next to him in the dark, with Castiel's eyes narrowed and lips pursed, sometimes shuffling an inch closer to Dean on the bed.

It's one of those nights that Castiel asks what Dean's nightmares are about.

Dean pauses, confused. "Dude, you know. You've seen them."

"Not recently." Castiel's eyes meet his. "I haven't visited your dreams recently,"

Dean squints at him through the dark. "You haven't?"

"I have no need to." Castiel indicates the space between them in the dark. "If I had any information, I could convey it here."

"Oh." Dean sits up and looks away. Cas's gaze doesn't waver, just remains on his face, unflinching.

"It's just-" Dean doesn't look at Cas. "Stuff from when I was down there."

"In hell?" Castiel doesn't flinch as he says the word.

Dean swallows. "Yeah. In hell."

Castiel doesn't say anything and Dean thinks that might be why he keeps talking.

"I see it every night, Cas." His voice is lower than usual and his hands clench the bedcovers tight. "Every freaking night. I see it. I see me doing that to them and I hear them screaming. Every single goddamn night I hear them and it's me they're screaming at."

Dean's hands are clenched so tightly on the bedclothes it looks as though the knuckles could burst through his skin. He can't look at Cas. He stares at the window as if he could fly through the glass, and for a second he wonders if he'd actually feel the shards splintering around him.

Castiel's voice is very low. "You know nobody blames you for that."

"Yeah, well. That's where you're wrong." Dean can't look at Cas. But when the angel speaks, he hears the bewilderment in the voice.

"Why am I wrong?"

"Because, Cas-" Dean doesn't look at him. He doesn't look anywhere near the angel as he speaks. "I do. I blame me."

There's a moment and then Castiel's voice. "But why?"

Dean's teeth are ground together so tightly he thinks his jaw will crack and it's only Sammy in the next bed that stops him from yelling at Cas. "Because it's me who has to hear them every freaking night." The words come out as a hiss and he feels the burning sensation in his eyes, and looks away because he's not crying in front of Cas. "It's me who has to hear them and it's me who freaking did it to them. So just do me a favour, Cas. Never freaking talk about it again."

Castiel is silent, and when Dean turns to look at him, the angel is staring at him. He hasn't vanished, as Dean half-expected a second earlier. Instead, he's simply staring with that same look on his face, the same look Dean had seen there the first night he met Castiel, when Cas had stepped forward and said _You don't think you deserve to be saved._

When Cas speaks, it's quiet. "I raised you from perdition, Dean."

"Yeah, I know you did."

"I would not have done that if it had not been for the best."

Dean looks at him. "And what the hell's that supposed to mean?"

Castiel doesn't flinch at the phrase. "If you had been the person you believe yourself to be, we would not have raised you." He leans forward a little. "You are not a bad person, Dean."

"Oh yeah?" The words sound harsh but they tear at the back of his throat and Dean lowers his head. "What am I, then?"

There's a silence for a moment and then Dean looks up to see Cas's eyes on him. "You're Dean Winchester" the angel says, his voice low. "You're a hunter. You have work to do. You are Sam's brother. You're-"

"Yeah, I get the list, Cas."

Castiel's lips press together and he looks away. "You're my friend."

The words hang in the air between them and Dean swallows. He can't remember Cas ever having referred to him, openly referred to him as a friend before. He can't remember if he's ever said it back.

He takes a glance at Cas who's now avoiding his eyes, tugging at a sleeve. He tries to force some words to his mouth but nothing's coming.

He stares at Cas and then slides further under the covers. The air's cold on his skin and just looking at Cas sitting there feels wrong. Dean knows Cas doesn't feel cold and all that angel mojo stuff, but it still feels weird to see him sitting there, when it's so freaking cold out.

Perhaps that's why Dean does what he does next. Or perhaps he just doesn't know what to do, which is why he yanks back the bedcovers and says "Get in."

Castiel blinks and then stares up at Dean. "What?"

"Get in. It's freezing."

Cas stares. "I've already told you, Dean, I require no-"

"Cas. Just-" Dean wonders how many other ways there are to say it. "Get in."

For a second, Dean thinks Cas is going to say no or blink out or just move back to the chair-but then he gets up and moves cautiously towards the head of the bed. He stands awkwardly there, as if he's not sure what to do.

The bed's narrow and Dean has to wriggle over to make room for the angel to get in next to him. He moves over to the far edge and then nods at the space next to him, wondering what the hell got into his head. Castiel perches on the edge of the sheets for a moment and then gingerly lifts up his legs and half-crawls backwards onto the mattress.

Castiel has never been in a bed before and he's never really lain down, except for when he's been injured or comatose, and his memories of those times aren't entirely clear. He's never lain down the way humans do each night, apparently for simple enjoyment. He's never closed his eyes and slept, which seems to be the main purpose of this exercise.

But he's lying in a bed next to Dean Winchester now and the next thing he knows Dean's leaning over him to pull the covers over him and Castiel huddles inside his trench coat. He's not cold but he can feel warmth.

Dean's wearing a T-shirt and lying next to each other like this, Cas's arm brushes Dean's, and he feels the heat of the demon-hunter's skin. It's like an electric shock, a spark of power all over Castiel's body and he closes his eyes. He's never felt anything quite like it before and when he opens his eyes, he sees Dean studying him.

"Is that-" Dean gestures with one hand. "OK..to you?"

Castiel considers. He likes the sensation. It's pleasant, partly, to be under the covers, to feel the warmth-but there's another feeling underneath, a rising tide of excitement, a heat throughout his whole body, a flare of something whenever his skin touches Dean Winchester's. It's a curious sensation.

"Yes" he says, and his voice comes out softer than usual, quieter. "This feels-"

Dean waits, as Castiel considers which word would be best.

"Enjoyable" he finally decides.

Dean snorts. "Enjoyable" he says, lying down next to Cas. "You might want to be careful, Cas, before people get the wrong idea."

Cas's eyes narrow and Dean shakes his head before he can even ask. "Doesn't matter. You want to get some sleep?"

"I have no need to sleep, Dean."

Dean rolls his eyes. "You want to watch me sleep, then?"

Castiel hesitates a moment, then nods.

"Fine." Dean leans against the pillow and closes his eyes and tries to ignore how weird it feels to be this close to Cas, to have the angel's hair brushing his on the pillow, to have Cas's hand an inch away, to have the heat of Cas's skin so close to his own.

He tries to ignore but it's hard.

He keeps his eyes shut but he can still feel Cas watching him. It doesn't bother him, though. Instead, it just feels kind of restful. Somehow, the thought of Cas's eyes boring into his skin when he's asleep isn't creepy-OK, not too creepy. But something about it just feels fine. Natural.

It's a while before Dean drifts into sleep but eventually he does. Castiel doesn't move. Instead, he lies in bed and keeps his eyes on Dean, watching his every movement until once again, sunrise arrives to announce the dawn.

* * *

From then on, it happens every night.

Castiel doesn't climb into Dean's bed immediately-he always takes his seat on the end first. But Dean wakes up, and every time he pulls back the bedcovers and tells Cas to get in.

And every time, Cas does. Every time.

Sometimes, they talk. Sometimes, Cas lies still, his eyes on Dean's face as he watches Dean breathe slowly, in and out. It feels like something unfurling under his skin; it feels like a spark flaring into flame.

Castiel has never felt this before but he doesn't want to question it.

It's one night that Dean asks Castiel if he misses his home, and at first Castiel doesn't understand what he means. It takes a few questions before he works out that Dean means heaven.

Castiel has to think for a few moments about his answer. He doesn't think about the days before he knew the Winchester brothers as much as he used to. He doesn't think about the days when he was a soldier of Heaven, when he was still an obedient angel.

He supposes a lot of that ended when he felt what Anna called doubt.

But then again, Anna isn't here anymore.

Castiel thinks and then looks at Dean. "I think about it" he answers honestly. "But I do not miss it as much as I used to."

In some ways, the days before doubt were simpler. But he would not return to them.

"I am not-" He traces his fingers back and forth on the mattress beneath them. "I am not just a hammer."

"I know." Dean's voice is softer than usual, his eyes trained on Castiel.

Castiel meets his gaze, stares back until something in the air between them changes, a charge, something electrical. "I do not miss the days before I started to feel doubt."

Dean's staring at him and something about it makes Castiel feel as if his heart's about to break through his chest. Angels do not feel this. For a moment, he wonders if it is his human vessel-if this is someone else's emotion. But somehow, he doubts it. The emotions don't feel unfamiliar, a craving, like Jimmy's urge to bite into burger after burger during the day of Famine. They are new, but they feel like his.

"Weird" Dean says, and he doesn't look away from Cas. "To spend your whole life looking up to someone and then you find out they were totally wrong about a bunch of stuff."

Castiel looks into Dean's eyes. "Yes."

There's a moment when Dean is looking at him, and Castiel's fingers brush Dean's. Dean's skin is burning, it feels to Castiel, burning hot and the next thing he knows, Dean's fingers have wrapped around his, and he's holding on.

Castiel feels something start in his chest; a slow burning, a burning that seems to spread throughout his body. He feels himself freeze where he is, his fingers interlinked with Dean's, his heartbeat suddenly painful.

"Dean-" His voice is a whisper in his throat and all he can think about is how close he and Dean are and the way Dean's eyes are bright, so bright, in the dark, and all he can feel is Dean's skin, so different from his and where their hands brush can be felt all over his body, and it feels like a constant waiting, a constant burning, and the only sound Castiel can hear is their own breathing, suddenly harsh in both their throats.

"Cas-" Dean's voice is suddenly fierce in his throat, and Castiel can barely breathe. His whole body seems to have frozen and this was never supposed to happen and no good can come of this but Dean Winchester's hand is on his shoulder and Dean Winchester's head is tilting towards his and Castiel isn't pulling away and all he can feel is heat, heat through his whole body and Dean's mouth, coming nearer and nearer to his-

There's a creaking sound from Sam's bed and both Dean and Cas yank their heads back at the same moment. Castiel can feel blood flooding to his cheeks. His heart's hammering painfully and he can't catch his breath and he can feel the surge of sensation beneath his stomach that tells him he needs to stop now, needs to lean away from Dean, needs to make himself remember-

Dean's staring at him, his own eyes wide, his hands clenched tight on the pillowcase. "Cas-" The whisper's hoarse in his throat. "Cas-" He looks away. "We're not-" Dean's tongue flickers at the corner of his lip, nervously. "I mean, I'm not into-"

Castiel is watching him and the expression in his eyes is completely inscrutable. Dean stares at him, already wishing he could bite back the words that just slid out of his mouth. _Freaking stupid._

"Cas-"

Castiel swallows and Dean watches the movement of his throat, up and down. "I need to go" and Dean closes his eyes at Cas's voice.

"No, Cas-"

Castiel stares at him a moment longer and then pushes the covers back. He climbs out of the bed and dimly, Dean notes that Cas hasn't even undressed-he's still in that freaking trench coat and shoes. Then again, if Cas was undressed, the situation would be a lot more complicated and Dean pushes the thought of what Cas might look like naked out of his head.

"Cas-"

"I have to go" says Castiel, and he doesn't say where. Dean slumps forward, his forehead pressed against his hand.

"Cas, wait-"

He looks up to find Castiel's eyes on him. The angel is standing still in the centre of the motel room, his eyes fixed on Dean. They're narrowed and Dean can't read the expression in them, no matter how hard he tries, but he's pretty sure it's not good.

"I am not needed here, Dean." Each word is firm and precise and each one feels like a sharp jab into Dean Winchester's skin. He stares at Castiel and wonders how the hell one of God's divine creations can be so completely freaking wrong.

"Cas-"

The angel vanishes before Dean can say anything more. He stares for a moment at the empty space where Castiel stood a moment ago, and then he leans back against the pillow and slams his head into his hands.

Freaking perfect.

* * *

It's the first time Dean's actually wished for a demon attack.

Or an angel turning up. Or a plague to fight. Anything, really. Something they couldn't handle.

Because he's pretty sure that's the only way Cas is turning up at the moment.

Cas hasn't shown up in four days and Dean's pretty sure Sam knows something's gone on between them. His brother keeps staring at him over restaurant tables, and Dean's wondering if there's some non verbal thing he can do to tell Sam to mind his own freaking business.

But then, he guesses it is Sam's business if something shows up to torch their asses and Cas isn't showing. Because the last thing Dean wants is to find out he and Sam got fried by a demon because he and Cas had some weird midnight moment, and now it sounds even more freaking dirty than the first time he thought it.

He's tried to forget the whole thing, and just shove it out his head, but every day Cas doesn't show just rams the whole thing back to the forefront of his mind again.

He doesn't even know what the hell happened and he wishes he could explain it, but he can't get Cas back, because he doesn't know what the hell he'd say. That he's sorry? For pulling away? What was he meant to tell Cas, that he's not into guys like that? That he's never-OK, maybe once or twice, he's looked at a guy and thought about what it would be like. But he's not into that. And he's definitely not into that with Castiel, because hell, if he is, they're in all kinds of crap.

Because dealing with the apocalypse and with demons and with most angels turning out to be flying dicks with wings are enough problems for anyone to be going on with, without Dean deciding he wants to be grinding his hips into Cas's.

Then again, Dean Winchester's never been just anyone.

So, four days, and each one, when Sam's not listening, Dean tries calling for Cas. He never holds out much hope but every time Cas doesn't turn up, he grits his teeth and wishes he could yank the angel down here by his shoulders and tell him-

Dean doesn't have a freaking clue what he'd tell him, which makes the whole thing worse. It's like a constant gnawing sensation in his chest, and Dean isn't in the mood to try and figure out what it's supposed to mean.

And then it's five days later and they end up with exactly what Dean wished for.

Demon attack.

It's pretty standard, given what they're used to, and Dean's still freaked about Sam's demon blood fix, and they get a couple of blows each but apart from that, it's pretty much fine. And ironically, they've almost got the freaking things cornered when Cas blinks in like he's never been away.

Dean's not about to ask how or when Cas heard they needed his help. Usually, it's because he's too damn grateful to be curious but this time it's because when Cas appears, his eyes momentarily leave the demons and that's all the time they need to launch a full-scale attack.

It takes effort and kicking and a few blows from him and Sam and an exorcism ritual to get away. But none of that matters. Because what matters, what matters is that one of them gets behind Cas's shoulders and an arm around his neck and mutters something, mutters the same thing that Whore of Babylon chick used back in the freaky religious-cult brainwashed town, and the next thing Dean knows, Cas is crumpled on the floor at his feet, and Dean feels like his heart's about to explode through his freaking chest.

He doesn't know he's yelling Cas's name, doesn't know it even as he steps forward and plunges his blade into the demon's chest, doesn't even register the demon's screaming, doesn't even notice Sam ducking and dodging and sinking his knife into the other one's ribs. Instead, all he hears is Cas's name, echoing , beating the inside of his skull, as if his brain is yelling as loudly as his voice.

It's seconds later but it seems like hours, that Dean sinks to his knees next to him, yanking Cas by his shoulders, so that his head's lying almost directly in Dean's lap. And Cas isn't moving, and his eyes aren't opening and Dean slaps him round the face then, shaking him, because it can only be a minute, it can only be a minute before Cas opens his eyes, because this is Cas, this is Cas and he has to be OK. And Sam's beside him, and he's shaking Cas's shoulders and Dean knows his brother's speaking but all he can hear is his own breath tearing at this throat, his own heartbeat, blood pounding in head as though in time with his own panicked thoughts. And Cas is lying there and his eyes are closed and he's not speaking.

And Cas isn't speaking and he isn't moving and Jesus, Cas, no.

Sam's watching him and he's saying something but Dean can't listen. He can't because he has to keep looking at Cas, because if he's watching, maybe Cas won't slip away.

"Cas" he says, and he hears his voice crack halfway through and his hand reaches out and his fingers close around Castiel's wrist and he holds on. "_Cas."_

He holds on and all he can feel is that skin, hotter than he'd expect, warm and smooth under his hand, and he's holding on, he's holding onto Cas, and Jesus, Cas, open your eyes, come on.

Come on, Cas.

He can feel Sam's eyes on him and he doesn't realise for a second that he's speaking aloud. "Cas. Cas, come on." But his words crumble in his voice and his other hand's biting into Castiel's shoulder, because he's so still, and he shouldn't be so freaking still. His eyes are closed, and there's a faint trickle of blood under his mouth and Dean wants to wipe it away, that's all he wants, but he can't move, he can't move his freaking hands, he's got to hold onto Cas, because if he doesn't let go, maybe he won't go anywhere.

"Cas-" he says and then he closes his eyes and keeps them shut because he doesn't want to see it, he can't see it.

"Dean-" Sam's voice is ragged, torn in two, and Dean shakes his head, because no, he's not listening to this, no, this isn't happening, he isn't letting go, he is never letting go, this is not happening, no, Jesus, Cas, Cas, no...

"Dean-" Sam's voice is softer now and he can feel his brother's hand on his shoulder, and he doesn't pull away, because this can't be happening, this can't be real, nothing is, not now...

"Don't" he says, and the word breaks on his lips and he doesn't know who he's talking to anymore.

His eyes open and he's staring at Castiel and all he can do is hold on, that's all he can do, because now he can't let go. He can't ever let go, not Cas, no.

He's not letting go. He holds Castiel and his fingers dig into the angel's clothes. He grits his teeth and holds on tight because he can't let go now. He's holding on and he doesn't care who the hell tells him to stop, he's not letting go. He is not letting go.

"Dean-" Sam's voice, a whisper now, and he shakes his head, because shut up, Sam, shut up, this isn't real, this can't be real and no, he's not pulling away. He's not leaving because he'll kneel here all night if he has to, he'll stay the whole year, the whole time through if he can keep holding onto Cas. And he is holding on, and he is not letting go. Because too many people have gone and Cas isn't going to be the next. Not now, not ever.

He's holding on and he's watching Castiel's face. He can feel his breath caught in his throat, he can feel every beat of his heart, he can watch the slow line of that blood cross down Castiel's chin, mark his skin, leave an imprint, like a brand.

And then Castiel's eyes open.

It's only for a second and it's a flicker of an eyelid but he saw it, Dean saw it, he saw it, and he almost freaking collapses over Castiel's body. He almost freaking falls and then he has to straighten up because Cas is alive, Cas is _alive,_ goddamn it, and he's going to get him out of here, he's going to get Cas out of here now if he kills himself doing it.

"Cas-" he says and then he grabs Cas's hand and squeezes. "Cas, open your eyes, Cas, it's me, it's Dean, it's me, I'm here-"

Cas's eyelids flicker again and his head moves to the side. Dean stares at him, his chest aching, as though it's him who's fallen to the ground, him who's lying there, struggling to breathe-

And then Cas's fingers squeeze back. It's the tiniest, gentlest pressure, but it's there. It's there and Cas knows he's there.

Dean's head falls forward and he breathes freely for the first time in minutes and it takes a moment for him to realise his cheeks are wet. He puts up a hand, expecting to feel blood, but it comes away clean.

He doesn't let himself think about what that might mean. Instead, he just scrubs a hand across his face and then slides his arms under Cas's shoulders, and prepares to lift him. He'll carry Cas back to the car if he has to. He'll carry him all freaking night.

Cas doesn't have to be carried all night, but he does have to be carried to the car, his arms draped around Dean's neck unthinkingly, his eyes closed. Dean doesn't even think about picking him up, holding him, doesn't even let himself think about Cas's skin brushing his. All he thinks about is the sound of Cas's breathing, hoarse and rapid, in and out, and he counts them, _one, two, three _in his head, because each one is a second longer that Cas is alive.

Sam doesn't blink when Dean climbs into the back seat of the Impala, with Cas draped against him. Another time, Dean would have noticed this, would have noticed that Sam hadn't noticed, but now, he's too focused on Cas, too busy staring at the angel's face, his hands fastened in Cas's hair, staring at him, saying his name. He wipes the blood away with one hand and doesn't care when it stains his skin.

It's halfway back to the motel that Cas tries to say something. "D-" His lips are mouthing and Dean bends closer to hear. "D-" It takes a couple of tries before Cas says "Dean."

"Yeah?" Dean's fingers braid themselves with Cas's and he dimly notices the angel's squeezing back, his head lying on Dean's lap. Castiel blinks, his eyes wandering from one point to the other, before they rest on Dean's. "Dean-"

"Shh." And Dean touches a finger to Castiel's lips. "Just stay quiet, yeah? Don't speak."

"Dean-" Castiel coughs, and blood bubbles slightly at the corner of his mouth. "I'm sorry-"

"Shhh." Dean places the finger again. "I know, I know. It's OK." And his hand's touching Castiel's hair, brushing it back gently, thumb lingering on Castiel's skin. "It's OK, I know. It's OK."

Castiel presses his lips together and Dean shakes his head. "It's OK" he says again, as if saying it can make it true, can undo whatever damage has been done, can bring a smile back to Castiel's lips.

It doesn't quite bring a smile but it does let Castiel's eyes close and for the rest of the journey back to the motel, he looks marginally more relaxed.

* * *

Back in the motel room, Cas is curled up on the hotel bed as Dean and Sam drag out first aid kits, bandages, anything they can think of that might help. Or at least, Sam searches the room. Dean remains where he is at Cas's side, wrapping bandages, one hand holding the angel's because there's no way in hell is he stepping away right now. Cas's eyes flicker open and closed but whenever they're open they're staring at Dean and Dean doesn't look away.

It becomes obvious pretty quickly that there isn't much they can do for Cas physically-the most he's got is a small gash in his side. The damage is something they have to wait for him to heal from-something that requires rest, and something that means Castiel can't "blink out".

It's pretty obvious that Cas isn't moving from the bed and though Sam offers to go on the floor, Dean refuses. Sam tries to persuade him, perhaps noticing the way his brother hasn't moved from Cas's bedside since they got back to the motel, but Dean refuses to move and eventually Sam climbs into bed, after asking his brother to consider going to bed at some point.

Dean waits, sitting by Castiel's bedside, his fingers still braided with the angel's. The minutes seem to creep by until they stretch into hours. Castiel's head is tilted back, his eyes closed. If he'd been human, Dean would have said he was dozing, but angels don't sleep.

It's a few hours before the silence starts to weigh on Dean's ears and he clears his throat.

Castiel's eyelids flicker a little more hurriedly but he doesn't say anything.

"Cas?" Dean's voice is lower than usual.

Castiel opens his eyes a crack. "Dean?"

Dean swallows. "How you feeling?"

Castiel seems to consider for a moment. "Sore" he says. "And..sore." He shakes his head and tries to sit up for a little. "The chant was more effective than I predicted. It-drained me." Each word seems to cost a great effort.

Dean's eyes narrow. "What do you mean, it's drained you?"

Cas closes his eyes. "It means...for your understanding...my batteries are low."

"So, you need to, like recharge?"

Castiel nods. "That would be...a way to put it, yes, Dean."

Dean looks at Cas. "You need anything?"

"No. I just...require rest." Castiel's eyebrows knot, and his eyes narrow. "It hurts" he says and his voice is suddenly raw.

Dean leans forward. "Hey" he says and his fingers thread in between Castiel's anyway. "Hey, it's OK."

Castiel returns the pressure unthinkingly. "Dean-I saw-I wanted to help-"

"I know." Dean squeezes his eyes shut, because, Jesus, he keeps seeing Cas lying there, crumpled on the floor, blood trickling from his mouth. "I know, Cas."

"I-I wanted-" It takes a few moments of Castiel gasping before he is able to speak. "I wanted to apologize" he says and his voice is a rasp in his throat.

Dean shakes his head. "Don't be stupid, Cas."

Castiel's eyes narrow. "I didn't intend to be."

"No, Cas, I meant-" Dean rakes a hand through his hair. "I meant, you don't need to freaking apologize, OK?"

Castiel stares at him. "You were angry at me. I presumed I had done something wr-"

"No, Cas." Dean sighs and without thinking, drags himself up onto the edge of the bed. "It's just-I shouldn't have-" He sighs and looks at Cas. "Look, you didn't do anything wrong, OK?"

Castiel stares. He's got the same expression he wore the first time Dean saw him again. _You don't think you deserve to be saved._

"Dean." Castiel is staring again which is better than him not being able to keep his eyes open. "I-"

Dean can't let him finish. "Look, dude, I just didn't-expect it, OK? It just-" He doesn't need to say what they're talking about and he doesn't need to try to remember Castiel's body hot against his, with that blanket over them, Cas's eyes, so bright blue that Dean can almost feel it inside his chest, and then the sudden rush of heat that had had Dean pulling away from him because the last thing Dean had needed was Cas getting any closer.

"I just freaked out" he says, to cover the silence falling between them which is starting to feel awkward as all hell.

Cas takes a moment to reply. "That was not my intention."

"I know." Dean stares at his lap for a second and then turns to look at Cas. "Look, I'm sorry, OK?"

Castiel blinked. "I did not expect an apology."

"Well, you got one."

Castiel swallows and again Dean watches the movement of his throat. "I'm sorry, Dean." The angel's eyes flicker to his lap and it's too damn weird not to have him staring. "I did not-"

Castiel doesn't remember much of what happened that day. He remembers a fleeting glimpse of the Winchester brothers before the chant had entered his ears and then his vision had been full of confusion and pain had been shooting through his vessel and his mind had been screaming but no one had heard.

He remembered someone holding him but the next time he could remember seeing anything clearly was lying in the back of the car, with Dean's eyes over his. It had taken him a moment to realise Dean's fingers were linked with his own.

And now he's sitting in the bed that Dean would usually occupy and Castiel's thoughts keep straying back to the feeling of Dean's fingers threaded through his. He wonders if this is what it is like for humans all the time. How distracting.

He tries to think of the right thing to say, but he doesn't know the words and everything hurts and he lets his eyes fall closed. "I am sorry, Dean" he says again. He wonders if this will mean Dean will be happy to see him again.

He opens his eyes to see Dean staring at him. He stares back, taking in Dean's eyelashes brushing his cheeks, the smooth skin of his neck and Castiel bites his lip, feeling a rush of blood rising to his face. He doesn't know what this is, what it-

"Cas?" It takes a moment to realise Dean is saying his name.

"Yes?"

Dean is staring at him and it takes a few moments before the hunter speaks. "Budge up."

Castiel blinks. "I'm sorry?"

Dean stands up and moves to the head of the bed. "Budge up. Let me in."

Castiel stares up at Dean. "Dean-"

"Cas." Dean holds up his hands. "Just-just let-"

But Castiel is already moving over.

Dean climbs into the bed next to him and then his hand brushes Castiel's again and Castiel's thoughts seem to vanish, obliterated by a rush of sensation. He feels his lips part for a second, suddenly gasping for breath.

Dean's eyes are on his face and he isn't moving his hand away. "Cas" he says, and Castiel feels the skin all over his body tingle, that electric charge back again.

He swallows and feels his fingers curl slowly, so that they're gripping the sheets beneath him. Dean's watching him, and then Dean's hand slides onto his shoulder. A thumb trails gently over Castiel's neck and suddenly, it feels as though he can't breathe. At first, Cas wonders if there's something wrong with his vessel, if Jimmy Novak's body is experiencing some unexpected breathing condition, but it takes a second for him to realise it's the feeling of Dean's skin against his that's having the effect. Castiel tries to tell himself that this shouldn't be happening but his thoughts are confused and unclear and there's a sudden heat roiling beneath his stomach, and suddenly, he's gripping the sheets tighter than ever.

"Dean-" and the name comes out as a low growl.

Dean looks at Cas. The angel's head's tipped back, his eyes closed, cheeks flushed. His hands are closed on the mattress. Cas is like this because of _him_. Something Dean's doing is making Castiel lose control. The closest Dean's seen Cas to out of control before now is when the angel slammed him up against the wall in that alleyway and just thinking about _that's _doing things to him. Or, making him want to do things to Cas, but who's being picky?

"Cas-" and he leans forward so that his head's brushing Castiel's chin. "You ever done this before?"

Castiel's gasping for breath but his voice is still the same rough tone Dean's used to. "Done what?"

Dean rolls his eyes-Cas can't actually be this clueless- and, just to make his point, trails his hand over Cas's stomach.

The sound that comes from Castiel's throat is high-pitched and Dean has to bite his lip to stop himself bursting out laughing because seriously, has Cas _never _felt this before?

Castiel's eyes, wider now, find Dean's mouth and Dean watches as Castiel's face crumples in confusion. The harsh gasps for breath are quietening now and Castiel stares at Dean, a look on his face that looks remarkably like disappointment.

"Dean?" he says, the worry in his voice turning it into a question.

Just like that, Dean wants to freaking kick himself._ Shit. _Cas thinks he's laughing at him. _Dick move, smiling._

"Cas" he says, wiping all trace of a smile from his lips and leaning in so that his forehead's against Castiel's. "Cas, have you never felt...something like that before?"

Castiel shakes his head slowly and Dean can still see that same doubt caught in the angel's eyes, the same way he'd seen it when that Chastity chick had led Cas off by the hand. He lets his own arms slide around Castiel's shoulders now, get him relaxed, because this is supposed to be good, not something that'll freak him out.

"Cas" he says and Cas shifts so that his hips brush Dean's and God, Dean wants to just grab him and yank him closer, but he holds still. Somehow, he thinks that might just make things a hell of a lot worse. "You trust me, right?"

Castiel bites his lip in a move that shouldn't look as adorable as it does and nods.

"OK." Dean lets his hands move to Castiel's shoulders and doesn't let himself think about this. Doesn't let himself think about how weird it is that this is with a guy, doesn't let him think about how this is freaking Cas, the last person he'd have expected this to be with. Doesn't let himself think about any of it.

"Dean?" Cas's lips purse and his shoulders lift slightly as he struggles to breathe. Dean fights back a smirk as he lets his thumb brush Cas's lips and moves his hips so that they're brushing the angel's through the trench coat.

"Dean-I-" Castiel bites his lip and then seems to steel himself, meeting Dean's eyes. "I thought-I thought I had angered-"

"Cas." Dean leans his forehead against Cas's, because, _damn _Cas needs to stop giving him that look. "Cas. You didn't-" He closes his own eyes for a second. "I was freaked, OK? But I'm not. Not now." He strokes Castiel's mouth again and the angel's lips part, apparently enjoying the sensation.

"Dean." The angel's voice is a whisper.

Dean knows Cas is starting to lose it, knows that he can't keep it together, but he leans forward and lets his own lips stop an inch from Cas's. Their skin glides together and he can hear Sam's snores in the next bed, a sign that they're safe, undiscovered. "When I saw you like that today" he finishes, his own voice barely a breath. "I knew, OK?"

"Knew what?"

Dean could roll his eyes but Cas looks genuinely confused and that's when Dean lets his hand slide down again and gently brush beneath Cas's stomach, and he watches Cas's eyes widen as he sucks in his breath.

"That I wanted-" Dean says quietly. "To do this."

And he tilts his mouth and presses it to Cas's.

He keeps it gentle, the same way he does with a woman, when he's kissing her the first time, and even though he's never kissed any guy before, he's pretty sure this part, at least, works the same way. He moves his lips gently back and forth and then slides a hand into Cas's hair, gently pulling Cas's mouth more firmly against his.

It takes a moment during which the angel freezes, shoulders suddenly tensing, against Dean's chest-and then Castiel lets out a small sound threaded with a gasp and his shoulders go limp as he seems to melt, boneless, into Dean's mouth, his own hands sliding somewhere in the region of Dean's neck. Dean feels himself smile against Castiel's lips, as he gently lets his tongue stroke across Castiel's mouth and feels it open in a gasp, letting him inside. Castiel's hands tighten on the back of Dean's neck and he feels Cas gasp, his tongue dancing across Dean's, his heart slamming against Dean's when Dean moves closer so that Cas's head is under his chin.

Dean gently pulls back, ending the kiss softly, so he can get a look at Castiel's eyes, because he's pretty sure this is the first action that Cas's ever gotten and he wants to make sure he's OK with it.

Judging by the light flaring in Castiel's eyes, the hands snagged at the back of Dean's neck and the way the angel's staring at him, his gaze constantly flickering to his mouth, Dean's pretty sure he's OK with it.

But he's got to check. "Cas" he whispers, and his hand grazes Castiel's mouth again. "You enjoy that? 'Cos-"

He's cut off by Castiel pulling Dean's mouth back to his own.

It's a rough, quick kiss, and Cas is clearly trying to mimic Dean's movements but his lips are soft and warm and Dean still closes his eyes and dissolves into it for a few moments, before Cas pulls away, his chest now rising and falling rapidly.

"Forgive me, Dean." His voice is ragged, hoarse. "I-this is very new-I didn't know how to-"

Dean's hands slide to either side of Castiel's jaw and hold him gently. "Cas" he says, very quietly. "Shut up a minute."

He then tilts his mouth to Castiel's again and lets himself stop thinking.

Every inch of Castiel's mind is taken up with Dean's mouth and Dean's skin and Dean's hands. He's seen humans kiss plenty of times, and he's always thought it looked unnecessarily complicated, that it looks rather messy, if he was honest with himself, but this-this is easier than he expected. His body simply follows Dean's movements, but his hands lace behind Dean's neck of their own accord. He knows how to breathe, how to open and close his mouth, how to lean closer, when he feels Dean pulling back to deepen the kiss. He knows how to do those things and it feels like his heart is about to burst through his chest. He thinks briefly of his life in Heaven, of all the good moments in his life before this-moments when he commanded respect in his garrison, the moment when he was given the assignment to raise God's chosen one from hell-and decides none of them compare to this. This is maybe more than he would have thought to appreciate.

But now his mind's racing ahead and he wants more than this-he wants-His mind's filled with images now, as Dean lowers his head to Castiel's neck, as Dean's tongue dances along Castiel's skin. His mind's filled with what Dean's hands feel like against his shirt and what it would feel like to slide his along Dean's skin.

He feels his hand slide down to the bottom of Dean's T-shirt and for a moment, he hesitates, wondering if Dean will want what he's thinking of doing. But then Dean moans softly into Castiel's skin, and he moves his mouth over a spot under Castiel's ear that has Castiel's mind spiralling and his hands slide lower entirely of their own accord and seconds later they brush the skin under Dean's shirt, and dance back and forth and he feels a shiver go through Dean's whole body.

"Cas.." Dean's voice is a low growl now, and Castiel is surprised at the jolt the sound sends through his whole body. His hands fist on the back of Dean's shirt and his hips rise up, bumping the hunter's hard enough to leave bruises but at the minute Castiel doesn't care about that.

And then Dean's hands slide onto Castiel's bare skin under the shirt he wears and his fingers play back and forth and Castiel hears a high-pitched sound peal from his own throat. Dean's mouth strokes along the edge of Cas's jawbone and then his hands slide lower and all that emerges from Castiel's mouth is a low keen.

There's a sound from the next bed and Dean pulls back, his hands still clasped on Castiel's shoulders. "Cas. We-er-" He swallows, praying that Sam hasn't woken up.

He hasn't. Dean breathes a sigh of relief as his brother turns over, still clearly fast asleep, but hell, he takes it as a sign. The last thing Sam needs is to wake up and find his brother in the middle of taking Cas's-angel virginity or whatever the angel term is.

"Cas. We-Sam could-" He nods.

Castiel's eyes are wide and his cheeks are flushed but he nods. He nestles his head against Dean's chest, as his breathing slows, his hands opening and closing on the edge of Dean's T-shirt. "I-"

Cas doesn't seem to be finding words and Dean nods. "It's OK." He presses a kiss to the tip of Castiel's nose. "Me too, Cas. Me too."

Cas seems to understand or at least try to understand. He shifts slightly on the bed. "May I stay?" he asks, his voice breathy now, faint with the question.

Dean nods. "'Course. Stay right there." He keeps his arm over Castiel's and lets his head fall onto the pillow. His body's aching, desperate to take things further, but one step at a time. Something Dean doesn't say too often but this is Cas. One step at a time might be a good idea with him.

Dean lets his eyes fall closed and feels Castiel position himself. "Right here?" the angel asks and Dean opens his eyes to see Cas curled around him, his forehead brushing Dean's. He moves forward and his arm falls around Castiel.

"You don't need to sleep?"

"Angels have no need of sleep." Castiel's voice is still softer than usual and for a second, his forehead presses against Dean's. "You may sleep, Dean."

Dean smirks and presses another quick kiss to Cas's lips. "You can watch my dreams" he mutters, as he curls closer to Cas's chest. "If you want."

He hears Cas's answer, warm against his skin. "I would like that very much."

That's the last thing Dean hears before he slips into dreams.

* * *

In his dreams, that night, there are no nightmares. There are blurred, unreal images, but they're of Cas. Cas, biting into a burger. Cas, sitting next to him in the car. Cas's head, leaning against his. Cas's hands fisting in his clothes.

Dean's not sure which are dreams and which are memories and he finds he doesn't really care.

There's one moment where Dean looks up and sees Cas's eyes looking into his. "Cas" he says, and it doesn't seem odd that Cas steps forward and tilts his mouth to his.

Dean pulls back for a moment as his fingers dance in the strands of Castiel's hair. "Is this a dream?" he asks the angel, voice rough. "Or a memory?"

Castiel's lips brush his again, still uncertain, as the angel leans his forehead against Dean's. "Maybe both."

* * *

When Dean's eyes open the next morning, the first thing he feels is warmth. He automatically curls closer to it, arms winding tighter. "Cas" he mumbles and then his eyes open wider. "Cas?"

He sits up.

Cas is still lying next to him in the bed, his head tucked against Dean's chest. His fingers are playing with Dean's hair, his eyes closed, but Dean's pretty sure the angel's awake.

It's then he sees a shadow standing over the bed. He rolls over, dimly aware that the sunlight is much brighter than it should be, that he's slept later than he intended.

Sam is standing at the foot of the bed. He's watching Dean and Castiel with one hand in his hair, his head tilted and a smug expression that makes Dean picture throwing his little brother through the nearest window.

He sits up, one hand out. "OK. This isn't-"

Sam raises an eyebrow.

"This isn't what it looks-" Dean raises both his hands. "OK, it might-"

Sam clears his throat. He points silently at Castiel's shirt-which is quite obviously rolled up in a way it hasn't been the entire time they've known Castiel.

Dean holds up his hands. "That? I can-I can explain-"

Sam shakes his head. "Hey." He holds up his hands. "No judgement." He's barely hiding a smirk.

Dean's shaking his head. "OK, wait-"

Sam holds up his hands. "Don't have to explain."

"OK." Dean's not sure but he's pretty convinced that this is not the way Cas would choose for Sam to find out that he's spent the night in Dean's bed. "Cas and I were talking last night and-"

Sam's nodding along, and then Dean hears a voice from the bed.

"Dean asked if he could get into bed with me."

Dean spins round. No. No.

Cas keeps talking. "We then talked for a while and Dean kissed me. I informed him I returned his affections. We then engaged in heavy-" Castiel squints, brow furrowed. "Dean is now shaking his head at me."

Dean doesn't look at Sam. He keeps his eyes fixed on Cas and tries not to think about how adorable Cas looks when he's confused, with those eyes blinking, and his head tipped to the side.

Sam holds up his hands. "I'll leave you two alone." He heads to the hotel room door and Dean's sure he hears an explosion of laughter right before it slams shut behind him.

"Right." Dean heads for the bed, his hands raking through his hair and Cas squints at him, head tilted to the side. "What the hell was that?"

Cas looks at him. "Why are you angry with me?"

Dean sighs. "I'm not-angry. I just-" He pushes his face into his hands.

Castiel looks back at him. "You didn't want Sam to find out."

"No, I just-wanted to tell him carefully."

Castiel squinted. "Is it dangerous for him to know?"

"Not that kind of careful, Cas. I just want to make sure-" Dean swallowed. "You know. He doesn't feel pushed out or something-"

The door opened again and Sam appeared. "Sorry-" He's got his hand over his eyes. "You two just-carry on. I just forgot my wallet." He grabs it off the table, and heads back to the door. "Just...try not to break anything." Dean's sure he hears another explosion of laughter before the door closes behind him. He grits his teeth. He wonders if he can reach his gun from here.

Castiel is frowning but when he speaks at Dean, his voice is a little more certain. "Dean, I do not believe that Sam feels pushed out."

"No." Dean feels his own reply, slid through gritted teeth.

"Dean." Cas sits up now, glancing down at himself, as if surprised to find his shirt half rolled up his chest. "You seem angry."

"I'm not." Dean turns to look at him, and now he's mad at himself because who cares if Sam freaking knows? It's not like he could kick Sam out a hotel room every time Cas was here. What the hell did he expect?

He shifts up the bed towards Castiel. "Look, I'm not angry." He looks into the angel's eyes. "Are you OK?"

Castiel nods. "I am fine. Except-" A confusing look passes his face for a moment and it takes Dean a second to realise it's embarrassment. "I-"

"What?" Dean's staring at Cas and it takes a moment for Cas to pull aside his collar and show Dean his neck-where there are two large bruises which can only be from Dean's mouth.

Dean looks away. "Oh, man." He stares at the marks for another second before saying "Look, just keep them covered up, all right?"

"I don't understand." Castiel stares at the marks as if expecting them to vanish through the power of sight. Dean's head drops into his hands.

The last thing he expected the morning after nearly having sex with Castiel was to have to give him a talk about hickeys. Then again, this is Cas, and Dean has to admit, it could have been a lot worse.

After the obligatory conversation, Dean leans his forehead against Castiel's. "Listen" he said. "Were you-" It's a freaking weird question but he's got to ask it. He clears his throat. "Dude, were you in my dreams last night?"

Castiel stares back and Dean expects some form of "I don't understand what you're talking about, Dean" but what he gets instead is a nod and a "Yes."

Dean looks at him. "Elaborate?"

"Yes, I was in your dreams last night." A flicker of what looks like amusement passes over Castiel's eyes. "They were...intriguing."

Dean swallows. "Which...ones were you seeing?"

Castiel doesn't answer. Instead, a smile just plays across his lips and it's a second later that Dean leans in to kiss him again, taking advantage of his brother's sudden need for breakfast to push Castiel back against the headboard and promise him "Next time, we're getting a room alone."

* * *

It's later that day, driving in the Impala, that Dean takes a look into the backseat and sees Castiel's eyes on him. The angel's watching him with that same smile that he was wearing that morning, that same look. A look he hasn't seen the entire time he's known Castiel.

And then he catches sight of Sam's grin.

He and his brother haven't spoken about what happened that morning, partly because Cas has been with them all day, but partly because Dean's not being the one to bring it up. No way. No freaking way.

But Sam's sitting there, grinning and Cas is sitting in the backseat. And suddenly, Dean remembers Cas's words from that morning.

_You didn't want Sam to find out._

Quite suddenly, Dean slams on the brakes and yanks the car over to the side of the road. Sam and Cas both lurch forwards, only caught by the belt, which holds them firmly in place as Dean brings the car to a halt and turns to his brother. "Sam, you're driving."

Sam is in the middle of taking a gulp of water. Ten minutes later, and with some banging on the back from Dean, he finishes choking on it.

"I'm driving?" he finally splutters, turning to stare at Dean as if fearful for his sanity. "Dean, when is the last time you let me drive your car?"

"I've let you drive plenty-" Dean cuts off at the look on Sam's face.

"Dean, last time I asked to drive, you told me you'd take that gun and shoot me in my sleep if I ever touched this thing without your permission."

"I was eighteen."

Sam raises an eyebrow. "You said it again last year."

Dean watches Castiel's eyes drift between them in the back seat.

"Look-" Dean lifts his hands off the wheel. "I'm giving you permission." And with that, he swings himself out of the front seat, and heads for the back without another word, and through the window he sees Sam's expression clear. Seconds later, he sees his brother do the same thing, this time heading for the driver's seat.

Castiel stares at Dean as he climbs into the back seat. "What are you doing?"

"This" Dean says and without preamble, leans forward and brings Castiel's mouth to his.

From the front seat, he can hear the sounds of renewed spluttering which presumably means that Sam has once again attempted to take a sip of water and suffered the consequences.

Castiel freezes for a moment, perhaps wondering if Dean has just lost his mind but Dean closes his eyes and slides his hands into Castiel's hair, and after a moment Castiel's hands are on the back of Dean's neck and all Dean can think of is the fact that he and Cas are going to really need that second motel room tonight.

When they draw apart, that light's back in Castiel's eyes, and Dean takes a moment to enjoy it before he turns to look at Sam. "Anything wrong, Sammy?"

Sam's mouth is hanging open. He snaps it shut and raises his hands. "Nothing." He turns back to the wheel and Dean thinks he hears another snigger.

"Watch it." He places a hand inside his jacket. "I could still get you from here."

Sam snorts with laughter as he puts the engine into drive.

Dean leans against Castiel who is still staring at him. "That was-"

Dean waits as Castiel clearly thinks about his answer. "Enjoyable" he eventually provides once again.

Dean smirks and drapes an arm around Cas's shoulders. Cas stiffens for a moment and Dean remembers Cas isn't exactly used to human contact-but then a second later, the angel relaxes and lets his head sink onto Dean's shoulder.

Dean leans in so that his mouth brushes Castiel's ear. "Better than that" he mutters. "You'll see later."

Castiel's eyes widen but it's right then that Dean hears Sam's voice. "If I get pulled over, I'm telling them whose car it is."

"Go right ahead" says Dean and he lies back, ignoring Sam's smirk in the mirror, too busy absorbing the sensation of Cas's head on his shoulder. In his lap, Castiel's hand creeps for a moment, before it shoots back, as though worried about crossing a line. Dean grabs it and moves it firmly back before braiding Cas's fingers through his own. Cas looks at him and his lips twitch in a smile-a small smile, true, but a smile.

Maybe they've still got an apocalypse ahead of them. And maybe they've still got more demons and angels and all kinds of crazy sons of bitches to deal with but right now, they're driving along in a car, with Cas's head on Dean's shoulder and right now, Dean feels pretty good about things.

Because right now, real life, feels a hell of a lot better than dreams.

**Leave me some reviews if you like it. :) Come on, Supernatural writers. Destiel canon. Please?**


End file.
